


Adventures of Super Jack

by f_ckromeoandjuliet



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: I don’t know what this was, Like I had all the basic stuff but my writing is an emo mess, M/M, it was only vaguely based on the prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 04:26:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18652870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f_ckromeoandjuliet/pseuds/f_ckromeoandjuliet
Summary: For the Disney Direction Fic Fest my prompt was Read It and Weep***As soon as he opens the envelope Harry Edwards Styles knows his life is fucked. Totally absolutely fucked in the worst way possible and nothing is ever going to be the same ever again.Dear Mr. Styles,We are excited to inform you that to are now an official member of Direction Publishing Firm.





	Adventures of Super Jack

**Author's Note:**

> So like Zayn came off as a bad guy but sorry. I didn’t know who else to put for the boyfriend

As soon as he opens the envelope Harry Edwards Styles knows his life is fucked. Totally absolutely fucked in the worst way possible and nothing is ever going to be the same ever again.

 

_ Dear Mr. Styles, _

_ We are excited to inform you that to are now an official member of Direction Publishing Firm. This is an amazing opportunity for the both of us. You because you’re pursuing your dream of becoming a published author and us because we have such an amazing young man signed to us. _

_ My name is Mrs. Hawthorne and I’m going to be your literary agent. We’ll be working closely together and it’s my job to schedule all your public appearances and make sure you have everything you need so you can succeed. This is a tough industry and it’s ten times tougher when you’re so young. I can connect to your struggle personally because I published my first book at only nineteen and it landed number 60 on the New York Times best seller’s list. _

 

This lady seems to have an ego to her. Even in a congratulatory letter, everything has to be about how damn perfect she thinks she is. 

 

_ Attached is a set of rules about conduct and how often you’re required to update us on how your second novel is coming along. (You’re required to write at least two novels before you can be released from your contract.) _

 

Second? He hadn’t even written a first.

 

_ It’s not that hard. You’re a good boy so just sign the dotted line and send back. _

 

Harry blanks out at the condescending garbage and instead thinks long and hard about when the fuck he signed up for a writing contest. Where in the exact last week he accidentally submitted his journal. 

 

He digs in his bag for his second journal where he writes his raw thoughts before fabricating them into the version that got submitted. He opens up to last week praying for answers.

 

**Monday**

Had lunch with Louis today. He was telling me about the latest mutiny that broke out in his house over pancakes. I kind of zoned out and instead imagined a mutiny of small kids breaking out in our future house. Definitely going to draw extra hearts around his head next time I draw Louis in Journal 2.0. All and all it was a good lunch. 

 

**Tuesday**

Did something I never do and skipped Biology. (Actually, I said I had a super important English test I had to finish that very moment but instead took a nap on the stage while Louis practiced lines for the school play.) By this point, I could recite all of Seymour’s lines from Little Shop of Horrors. I wouldn’t mind getting eaten either if I could kiss him and be Louis’s Audrey. Instead, I decided to name our kids. Delores and Henry sound nice enough but I’d need a second opinion.

 

**Wednesday**

Miss Gallagher, my English teacher who I have a love-hate relationship, reminded us about some writing contest that ends on Friday but I was zoned out. I would never let anyone read my words (or see my doodles of Louis and our fictional kids. BTW my sketches of Henry are looking so cute I wish he was real and in my arms.)

 

**Thursday**

Just got off from my shift at the bakery. Munching on an apple turnover and trying to finish my essay on why luxury fashion should be considered an art form when my computer went to Hell on me. I run to Gemma’s room to borrow her laptop. “Open up. Open up,” I yelled. When I practically fall into the room she’s standing there with her hands on her hips wearing a face mask. 

“What, slime weasel?” 

“I have to borrow your laptop. Mine just went berserk and I need to turn this essay in this very second or I am dead.”

“You're not just saying that so you can look through my stuff?”

“Absolutely not. I pinky promise.” We linked fingers before she handed me a sleek MacBook Pro she got last year for Christmas. I was then in possession of her child. 

“Password is your name and birthday. No one can guess it because they think I’m stupid enough to pick something I care about.” I didn’t take the insult to heart but instead took the laptop back to my room. Logging in to my cloud I dropped the latest file into an email to Miss Gallagher with a quick and sweet note before sending it off.  

I officially need sleep and it’s only nine thirty. Sweet dreams.

***

 

Harry slams the notebook closed and opens his phone. Searching through his latest emails he comes to the one in question. “Please let this be about fashion,” he whispers as he opens the linked document. His heart sinks deep into the pit of his stomach as he reads the first line.

 

_ I, Super Jack, am going to rid Year 6 of bad guys and bullies.  _

 

Stupid naive Harry thinking he was going to make everything peachy keen. It’s definitely nostalgic but confirms his suspicions that in two months his personal diary chronicling from when he was ten all the way up until last Wednesday is about to go on sale for the entire world to read with a catchy title about superheroes or maybe about the secret life of a gay teen. (Not that he has ever said he was gay. He’s still trying to figure it all out if we're being honest here.)

 

Instead of wallowing in self-pity he trudges on through the journal entries to try and find some substance. Maybe if he tries hard enough he’ll stumble upon why everyone has been worshipping the ground he walks on for the last week.

 

**_Monday_ **

_ Oliver invited me over to his house to watch a movie. It felt like we were stuck in a black hole of awkward silence that shouldn’t be there. We have known each other since we were in nursery school. We have matching scars on our knees from when we learned to skateboard. He gave me my first kiss last week.  It was weird and made my heart flutter more than it should have. I almost asked him to do it again but he said he had to leave so in my throat were stuck the words, “Maybe this is was meant to be. Maybe we should do this more often.”  _

_ It was definitely the kiss that leads us to feel like strangers. “Do you regret it?” he pauses the movie in the middle of a, particularly gory scene.  _

_ “I want to.” The words feel like needles in my chest. _

_ “But do you. Do you regret it?” _

_ “I don’t know. Everything happened so fast that I didn’t think.” _

_ “But if it happened again would you think? What if it happened slower?” I can hear the words on the tip of his tongue before he speaks them. It’s not superpowers given to me by a mystical being but my own patented Ollie sense developed in primary school to detect when he was going to take my juice box.  _

 

_ “I wouldn’t think a second time. I would enjoy.” He pulls me close to him by my jumper pressing his lips to mine. It’s messy and neither one of us know what is going to happen next but we savor the moment. Tonight life is perfect. _

 

_ *** _

I’m such a filthy liar fulfilling my own wishes knowing that nothing I’m writing is true. Yes, we did kiss once because we were stupid and fourteen and wanted to say we had been kissed and the next week we had watched a movie but there wasn’t some romantic moment where we realized we belonged together. It was two hours of a movie about an American war where people were blown up every two seconds and we laughed like the sick fourteen-year-olds we were. 

 

Harry scrolls to last Monday and Wednesday's entries to see how far he stretched the truth to continue the narrative that they’re dating.

 

**_Monday_ **

_ Had lunch with Oliver today. He was telling me about the latest mutiny that broke out in his house over pancakes.  Or well he was trying to. Instead, we talked about the mutinies that will break out in the house we’re going to buy one day. (Attached is a picture of Oliver with extra hearts around his head.) _

 

**_Tuesday_ **

_ Did something I never do and skipped Biology. (Actually, I said I had a super important English test I had to finish that very moment but instead took a nap on the stage while Oliver practiced lines for the school play.) By this point, I could recite all of Seymour’s lines from Little Shop of Horrors. I don’t mind getting eaten either being Oliver’s Audrey and all since I can kiss him whenever I want. (Metaphorically that is. I can’t act to save my life so the school play would be a terrible idea for me.) Instead, I decided to name our kids. Delores and Henry sound nice enough but I’m going to get a second opinion when Oliver is less busy. (Attached is a sketch of Henry as a baby. He’s going to look like a doll.) _

 

Harry wishes he could live in that alternate reality where he could call himself Louis’s Audrey but instead when he looks at his journal entries he feels pathetic and gross because in retrospect he’s creepy. “Maybe sleep will be the answer to my problems,” he thinks. He’s dead wrong.

 

The next morning he hops out of bed and takes a short shower. Luckily today is his day of practically all study periods so he can relax and not think about the mess he’s gotten himself into. Hopefully. Most likely.

 

“Nope,” He concludes as he walks into school with Louis. (They don’t have to ride to school together. They both can drive but they say they want to do more for the environment. It’s really just so they can stare dreamily at each other not so discreetly while the other drives because they’re so fucking obvious.) On the front page of the school newspaper is Harry’s face blown up to an almost comical size and a headline proclaiming, EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT FROM WINNER OF DIRECTION PUBLISHING WRITING CONTEST. 

 

Surprisingly everyone has their heads buried in the newspaper. (A feat that has been seen never in the history of the school. There were always rumors of a copy of the latest issue going missing once or twice but for the most part, the bins copies are stacked in remain full until switched out the following week.)

 

Harry grabs for an issue that was left on a bench to check what part of his childhood they sampled from. Luckily it was the very beginning because if Louis witnessed the entries from last week without proper warning he would faint for no one else was up on the stage last Tuesday (or played Seymour. Ironically enough his understudy broke his leg a month ago excluding him from the play.)

 

Instead, it’s from Year 7 and mostly he’s just wish fulfilling about how he could punch some people he hates.

 

_ Tommy pushed me into a locker today. I wish I could have just zapped him away. The entire school would have cheered me on because no one like Tommy and his stupidly perfect face but Master Edge told me I must use my powers only for good and no one is supposed to know about them or people will hunt me down like the Frankenstein’s monster and experiment on me.  _

_ I don’t want anyone experimenting on me so I stepped away. I promised myself that next time he does anything bad I’m going to go ahead and zap him because bullies need to be taught a lesson about how to treat people. Especially if the next person he hits is Oliver than I’m going to make sure he spends the rest of forever in the Nether Realm. No one hits Oliver.  _

 

As if on cue “Tommy”, real name Zayn, taps Harry on the shoulder. He apologized years ago for the torment when they were a little too drunk at a party neither one of them should have been at. (They had coincidentally told both their parents they were at a super safe no alcohol involved school lock-in.) 

“Hey. I read your story. You’re like really talented. You deserved to win.” Something flutters deep in his stomach causing Harry to freak the fuck out.

“Thanks. It all came straight from the heart.” He wants to dig a hole and climb into and live like a Hobbit forever. “Not really but I put a lot of effort into it.” This is just getting worse by the second. Harry heard Middle Earth is nice this time of year.

 

“Well, maybe we should celebrate sometime. Movie maybe? Dinner afterward?” The breath he was holding is sucked straight out of Harry’s lungs. He’s to busy wondering how he got here that he doesn’t hear Louis walking away in frustration. 

 

“Sure. I wouldn’t mind. Just tell me when.” If this was the world of his journal Harry’s eyes would be two perfect hearts while his jaw lands on the dirty floor.

 

**Thursday**

It’s been a month since the fateful encounter in the hall with Zayn. Life has been busy since then. I have finally met the infamous Mrs. Hawthorne, full name  _ Diana Maria  _ Hawthorne, and she’s miserable to be around. Between talking about all the amazing opportunities she claims to have gotten me including a T.V. interview on the day of my books release to her telling me about how she’ll be proud if I even get an ounce of the recognition she got when her first novel came out. (She gave me a copy. It was dog shite.) 

Louis has been lately. Every time I ask him to hang out he gives me a vague excuse about how he has to practice lines or he’s needed at home. It’s really pissing me off but I’m too busy to care. Even with quitting my job at the bakery I have barely enough time to do anything. And when I’m trying to sleep my sister is next door plucking away horribly at her out of tune guitar. 

I bang on the wall. “Stop trying to play that stupid thing. You’ll never be good.” There’s silent on the other side before she starts strumming again. 

The tune is familiar but she’s such shit I can’t place it properly. I get so fed up with her playing I bust into her room. On her bed, she sits already dressed in her pajamas and one of my old jumpers from when I was fourteen. She’s focused intently on the child size acoustic guitar that until two months ago had been stuffed back up in the attic. Her fingers fumble with the frets as she chews on a cut up credit card which is what I assume should be a guitar pick. “What are you doing?” She spits the guitar pick at me.

“Playing this stupid thing. Why does it matter?”

“It matters because you sound like shit.”

“Well, since you got that book deal your personality has gone to shit so it’s payback.” I don’t retaliate but close the door. It feels like someone has punched me in the stomach as I crawl into my bed. I finally notice what she’s playing as I mouth the opening lines to Linger by The Cranberries as she plays the opening chords. 

“ If you, if you could return

Don't let it burn

Don't let it fade

I'm sure I'm not being rude

But it's just your attitude

It's tearing me apart

It's ruining every day.” 

Maybe it’s just my attitude. 

 

**Friday**

Skipping school. It’s not like I need an education. My book is already on its second printing and it hasn’t even officially come out yet. Besides my sister made me mad.

 

**Saturday**

I woke up to a text from Zayn this morning. 

 

_ Hey. What about that date I promised you? Would tonight be fine? If so see you at six.  _

 

_ Yeah. That’s perfect. See you tonight. _

 

I tried to hide the fact that I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. Instead, I silently danced around my room in joy. I called Louis but he didn’t answer so I took a deep breath and did the logical thing and called him a second time. Then the third time. Then the fourth time and that’s when I realize that he was probably asleep. So I Facetimed him. He answered with a groggy hello.

“I got a date tonight.”

“Okay.” Something in his voice told me that he was trying to hide how much he didn’t like the idea of that.

“Do you have a problem with it?” It sounded like a challenge because it was. 

“You wouldn’t care either way if I did have a problem with it.”

‘What’s that supposed to mean? I care about everything you think.”

“It means that you’ve changed. You’re not the sweet boy who I knew only a month ago but some fame hungry monster who takes selfies with celebrities and brags about how many people ask for his autograph every day. I don’t care if you’ve sold more books than JK Rowling because she’s a dried up hag and you’re turning into an asshole more and more by the day.” 

“That’s not true. You’re just jealous of how famous I am. You wish you could be me.”

“No, I’m not jealous. If fame comes with an ego the size of Jupiter than you can keep it because I don’t want to be friends with an asshole like you. Asshole. Asshole. Asshole!”  I couldn’t believe his words as the call disconnected. 

I’m definitely not an asshole. I’m the kindest person you’ll ever meet. If I saw a homeless person I would give them money (if they didn’t look too gross). See, I’m a kind person. A kind person who had a date to get ready for. I pulled on a faded in a sexy way t-shirt and a red and blue flannel. I looked hot. 

My date went fine. He was awkward but a gentleman. We made out in the back of the theater like the lovesick kids we are. He’s not perfect. He wears too much cologne and uses too much tongue when he kisses but that’s normal. Absolutely nobody can be perfect. Even if in the back of my brain, I keep thinking about how Louis is pretty damn close it’s not true. It’s not true because here’s a list of why Louis is totally flawed in every single way.

 

  1. He called me an asshole
  2. He can’t tell when someone is hopelessly in love with him
  3. He has a stupidly pretty face
  4. Shit this is hard



Isn’t it pathetic that all I can think about is Louis after I just went on a date?

 

The next month passes terribly slow for Harry. He starts officially dating Zayn at the half way point and life has become a mess and a half. Zayn is nice sometimes but he also has his moments where he goes into dumb jock mode. It’s frustrating to no end. 

 

Gemma still avoids Harry in the hall and plays her guitar loudly. She’s getting better and he wants to lay beside her and sing while she plays the guitar. He wants to go back to being little and playing old tapes on her Hello Kitty Boombox. He wants to talk to her and for everything to be them against the world when the world only extended to the end of the block. 

 

Louis still won’t look at him. When they do make eye contact he looks away like Harry is his own personal Medusa about to turn him into cold lifeless stone. His looks are pained when Harry and Zayn are a little to close to each other. It’s almost like his eyes are pleading for them to break up for his heart is slowly splintering until he’ll be a shell of himself. Losing his best friend and the person he thought was the love of his life is a pain he was never ready to face but here he is staring at a nightmare. A nightmare he fears is never going to end. 

 

**Thursday**

I’m packing a suitcase so I can get on a plane for the United States this afternoon. I was allowed to pick my suit so oh so carefully I lay the vintage floral suit in my case praying it doesn’t get wrinkled. I picked it up last summer at a secondhand shop in London and I know when Mrs. Hawthorne sees it she’s going to through an absolute fit. It’s not professional and it’s loud and ugly and no one with taste would wear it. 

Fuck her. 

The last thing I need to put in is my personal journal so I guess this is goodbye for right now.

 

**Friday** **Friday Part 1**

I’m on the set of some daytime talk show I forgot the name of. The girl doing my hair is genuinely nice and really pretty. (Attached is a sketch of her making a funny face.) Unlike everyone else, she keeps treating me like somewhat of an adult instead of a baby that can’t even make decisions on their own. Someone hands me a copy of my book and this is honestly the first time I’ve seen it in its entirety. No one let me make decisions on the title or cover. (Luckily nothing was changed on the inside except spelling and grammar mistakes. Even my gross doodles from when I was twelve got to stay.)

She finally finishes fluffing my hair and tells me that I need to get changed. I guess this another entry. See you tomorrow.

 

Harry walks onto the sound stage knowing fully well that anything he is about to say will be live-streamed by all the kids he goes to school with to see. Too bad he’s a stupid stupid arrogant boy. 

The host is a lady named Julia. No last name is given at all for she’s only there to give her hair the spotlight it deserves. To an average person, it would be distracting. She introduces herself and Harry. He sounds like a larger than life figure instead of a dorky teenager. “So Harry. Tell us a little about yourself and how this crazy journey began.”

 

“Well, my laptop broke so I had to use my sister’s instead.” He goes on repeating the rest of the story for the audience to hear. They’re enraptured. 

So if this was all a mix up involving the wrong file than where exactly did you come up with the story.”

“It was my personal journal. I changed names and gave myself superpowers but it was really the life I wanted to have.” His brain was clearly on autopilot as he tries to bite back his words but they’re already out there for the world and more specifically his boyfriend who has many cruel things said about him over the years. 

“So it’s your diary?”

“I prefer journal but yes.”

“Wow. You really are a talented young man to make your diary a New York Times Best Seller.” 

“I truly am,” he whispers to himself. 

The rest of the interview flies by painfully until finally, Harry is standing backstage reading Zayn’s breakup text.

 

_ I can’t really date someone who says those kinds of things about me _

 

If he can’t handle the words of a thirteen-year-old than maybe it was for the best they broke up. The rest of the texts flood in but he turns his phone off. Unfortunately, he’ll have to deal with the in-person torment on Monday.

 

**Friday Part 2**

So I’m now single and everyone I know hates me because I said mean things about them. Maybe I am a major asshole. Maybe I’ve always been a major asshole. I’ll change for the better now and that starts with asking Louis out because he’s the person I tried to be good for. 

 

Harry gets off the plane back in England. He keeps nervously checking his watch. It’s 5:05 and tonight’s performance of Little Shop Of Horrors starts at seven. He buys a bouquet of flowers, sticky notes, and a ballpoint pen before high tailing it out of the airport. On the ride to the school, he writes a note in front of a copy of his book. It reads like this.

_ Dear Louis,  _

_ I know we’re not on great terms at the moment but I think I might be even more in love with you than I was all those years ago when we stole each other’s first kiss. You make me a better person and I always imagined this life of the two of us together so I’ve sticky noted everywhere where I fantasized about marrying you. I just assumed you hadn’t read my book or you would have asked me about it. _

 

_ Love, _

_ Harry _

 

Seymour dies at the end of Little Shop of Horrors and it was beautiful. Louis looks apprehensive at the appearance of Harry in a suit with flowers but he approaches with caution. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed opening night. I wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

“Because you need to see this.” Harry hands him the book and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s a special copy just for you. Read the inside.” Louis does then looks up.

“Are you joking?”

“If I was joking would I have gotten flowers?” He hands him the flowers.

“We’re such idiots. I’ve been in love with you since primary school you neanderthal.”

“So is this an apology.” 

“This is me making you fall in love.” Their lips collide in messy harmony. That was the beginning of a love story. A complicated messy love story where they acted like a married couple and sang along to The Cranberries because who says that two against the world can’t be three against the world? 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my tumblr @louiesonlyangel


End file.
